Rotten Lullaby
by Satansbratn
Summary: A chance meeting, planned well in advance. The perfect trap for the woman with a thousand masks. It should have been her victory. But one bullet changed everything.


**AN:** I originally wrote this story in German and was asked by the talented _sternguckerin_ on tumblr if she could translate Rotten Lullaby into English. She also gave me permission to upload the story to my account. Thanks for your amazing works, sternguckerin!

* * *

_**Rotten Lullaby**_

_I reach to the sky  
And call out your name  
And if I could trade  
I would_

_[The Offspring - Gone Away]_

* * *

With a triumphant smile Jodie hung the photo of the young woman with strawberry blond hair who resembled young Ai Haibara so much back on the inside of her bathroom cupboard. After having carefully closed the cupboard door, the blonde left the darkened room and made her way to her bedroom. She didn't have much time left, in less than an hour everything had to be ready. She pulled the earplugs of the bugging device out of her ears and left the black case, which resembled a dictaphone, lying on her bed. She then took her mobile phone, which was lying right beside it, and dialled James Black's familiar number and waited. For a moment she heard nothing but the monotonous noise of the dialling tone and Jodie began to shift restlessly from one foot to the other. Finally, after almost a minute, somebody answered the phone. Relieved, the young woman released the breath she had been holding and straightened up a bit.  
"It's me. It's begun. He has just called that professor and he'll fetch the girl in an hour." She said nothing after that to give her boss time to process the information. For a moment it was quiet on the other end of the line and Jodie felt herself getting restless – she wanted to leave at last and arrest that woman. Finally James cleared his throat. "I will inform our colleagues to give them some time to prepare. Make sure that the girl is safe."  
"Of course." Jodie nodded and stepped closer to her wardrobe, still holding her mobile phone to her ear. Listening to James' instructions – despite knowing exactly how she was supposed to proceed; after all they'd been preparing for this day for weeks – she pulled a thin coat out of the wardrobe and put it on her bed. Then she bent down to the small metal box which was stored in the back corner of her wardrobe. Routinely she entered the six-figure code and immediately heard the clear signal tone as the armoured door opened. Jodie grinned and reached for the black SIG Sauer that was lying on the higher of the two shelves next to a foreign passport. With a practiced movement she took the empty magazine from the gun – for this purpose she had stuck the mobile phone between her ear and shoulder – and placed both the magazine and the gun on her bed. She then went back to the small safe and took out a small-bore Colt as well as a box of ammunition. She didn't have a firearms license for the Colt, nor for her service pistol. She had brought the guns from the States to Japan – or rather, James had brought them – but she had no permission from the Japanese authorities to carry them in Japan. Had she applied for a license, she would have had to reveal her identity as an FBI agent. This in turn would have led to unnecessary disputes with the authorities, which would have ultimately hindered her mission. But on this night she could make no concessions in that regard. Of course, she had a whole group of armed FBI agents as backup – but Jodie would not forego her own gun under any circumstance. They had to deal with a dangerous enemy and could not be sure that Vermouth hadn't a few surprises ready for them. After all, Sharon Vineyard – or Chris how she liked to call herself nowadays – had proved several times that she was prepared for anything. But it would be to no avail. Not today.  
Jodie grinned and ran her hand over the barrel of her gun. She would catch her. Today she would get the answers she had wanted for twenty years.

"Jodie." The voice of her superior tore the young agent from her thoughts. James' tone of voice had changed, it was no longer formal. "I know that today is important to you. But..." He was silent for a short time and Jodie heard him sigh. "Please remember that the mission is in the foreground. Tonight there's no place for personal feelings."  
Jodie swallowed and closed her eyes for a moment. "I know," she whispered finally and as she reopened her eyes, her gaze went automatically to the old and already slightly yellowed photo that was standing on her bedside table. She didn't have to look at it to know what it showed. A man in his early thirties with short dark hair, large glasses on his nose, and a friendly smile. The picture showed only the man's torso, he was standing in front of an impressive collection of criminological specialist literature, but Jodie knew that there was an FBI badge pinned to his belt. Her father had loved his job and had almost never taken off the badge – even if he was off duty.  
She shook her head and averted her gaze. Perhaps the memories of her father would hurt less once she had gotten the answers to her questions.  
For a moment she was a prisoner of her thoughts and she only realized that her boss was still on the line when she heard him clear his throat. "I hope you still remember this even once you're confronting her, Jodie." He sounded deadly serious and Jodie knew it was a warning she would do well to observe. A wrong move and she would get into trouble with her boss and the higher-ups in the headquarters – maybe she would even lose her job if she went too far.  
"I... Don't worry, boss."

For a few seconds there was silence on the other end, then she heard James sigh. They had had these talks too often during the last few weeks. And apparently James was just as weary of them as she.

"Agent Akai will meet you on-site."

"Understood. I'll be in touch as soon as I arrive," Jodie took her leave and ended the call. Then she sank down next to her guns and the corresponding ammunition on the foot of the bed and began to stock the Colt's magazine. Pensively her gaze wandered to the black SIG, but after a short moment she shook her head. She would leave her service pistol at home – the Colt was a bit more filigree and was easier to hide under the coat. It wasn't necessary to alarm him immediately.

Less that ten minutes later Jodie stood in the middle of the room and checked once more that the coat fit firmly. Only once she was certain that the Colt was well hidden and that she could pull it out in a single movement, she nodded contentedly. The chase could begin.

As she left the room, Jodie's glance went over the oblong blue packaging and the black and white photo, which were lying together on her bedside table, and a smile formed on her lips. Soon. Once this was all over and Vermouth was sitting behind bars she would tell him. And then they would be able to start a new life. Together.

* * *

An hour later Jodie made her way through downtown Tokyo. Next to her was the little girl – Ai Haibara . The white car that Jodie had noticed as soon as they'd departed was following them in a short distance. The FBI agent grinned. Everything was happening just as planned.  
She followed the planned route and headed for the harbour – where they would finally, after twenty years, meet once more. And this time it would be she who would be victorious.  
The child next to her coughed and Jodie cast a quick glance at her. "Don't worry, you'll be better soon... The doctor I will take you to is really good and your cough will disappear in no time." She gave the little girl a confident smile and adjusted her rearview mirror to make sure that Tomoaki Araide was still following them. When she noticed the white Prius was still directly behind them, a meagre grin formed on her lips. He was walking right into their trap and once they were at the harbour, he would have no chance to escape. They had made sure of that.

Merely half an hour later the harbour lights appeared and the agent accelerated. The dark blue car was racing with almost 80 kilometres per hour towards the docklands, which were deserted at this hour. The Prius had fallen slightly back and had disappeared behind some containers, but even if she couldn't see their pursuer at the moment, Jodie knew he was following them perseveringly. He wouldn't give up that easily.  
Only after several metres did she slow down a bit and turned the steering-wheel as far to one side as possible. She ignored the quiet startled pant of her front-seat passenger as she forced the car into a U-turn. Its tyres screeching, the Peugeot came to a halt and Jodie threw a glance at Ai Haibara. "You'll stay here – stay in the car, little girl." Then the FBI agent got out of the car and positioned herself in front of it – a pose that expressed pure superiority. With her arms casually crossed in front of her chest, Jodie Starling leaned slightly back and waited.

She didn't have to wait long. Only a few moments later the white Prius appeared from behind a corner and was heading straight for her. For a moment Jodie was dazzled by the bright headlights and she raised one hand to protect her eyes. The droning of the engine became louder and louder and finally the vehicle was close enough for her to recognise the driver – a young man with glasses, brown hair and a light-coloured sports jacket.  
Her lips curled into a fine smile, but Jodie hid it before it became visible. Seemingly calm and composed, she observed her pursuer stopping his car several metres away and opening the driver's door vigorously. With angrily narrowed eyebrows Tomoaki Araide got out of his car and came towards her. The young doctors firm steps and facial expression told her he was furious. Excellent.

"Oh! Mister Araide, what are you doing here?" With an ostensibly surprised smile, that was as false as her accent, Jodie pushed herself away from the car and made a step towards the man.

"That's what I wanted to ask you! What are you planning to do with the girl?!" The doctor's voice almost cracked, and if she did not hate her opponent with every fibre of her being, Jodie would almost appreciate this performance – she was good.  
"No, no!" Appeasingly the agent raised her hands. She wouldn't attack yet – after all he had no idea that she knew his true identity. And as long as that remained that way, she was two steps ahead of him. "We were just driving around a bit. For I have a lot of time to spare in contrast to someone who is as busy as you..."

"Time to spare?"

Jodie nodded. "The court is about to hear the case of your father's murder, is it not? I have heard that you will be testifying as a witness. I hope you're going to tell the truth." She lowered her head a bit. "After all, you're protecting the maid, Hikaru. Even though it was her who touched the trigger and killed your father that way."

"It was Hikaru?" Astonished, Araide looked at her and Jodie allowed herself a thin, almost invisible smile. The trap clicked shut. Slowly but surely.  
She raised her index finger in warning. "Ah, don't even try to deny it. I have heard Detective Mouri talk about what really happened that day."

"What are you talking about? It was my stepmother, she's the murderer! And besides, my father died of an electric shock. He wasn't shot."

Jodie grinned. Bingo. He had given himself away, just as they had planned it. "So he wasn't shot but died of an electric shock?"

Her grin became wide and then, without warning, Jodie Starling began to laugh heartily. For a few seconds Tomoaki Araide stared uncomprehendingly at the blonde and Jodie guessed that his brain was working furiously to process this – in his view contradicting – piece of information.  
"Eh? Is anything the matter?"  
"Oh sorry." Jodie raised her hands in an apologetic gesture, but she was still grinning. "But when I mentioned a trigger I wasn't talking about the trigger of a gun, but a light switch..." She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to remember what she had learned about the case from James and her other sources – Kogoro Mouri was among them, even if it was mostly Conan who had answered some of her carefully worded questions and thereby revealed the remaining unclear details. "The murderer had prepared a trap. As soon as somebody would switch on the light, they would inevitably kill your father. And it was Hikaru who switched on the light again, wasn't it? So strictly speaking she's the murderer... Your stepmother and the police agreed to falsify the reports to spare Hikaru from being held responsible for something that wasn't her fault." Jodie opened her eyes again and looked directly into his eyes. "The real sequence of events that day was changed in the official reports."

Tomoaki Araide froze. His eyes widened in disbelief and Jodie imagined perceiving a slight tremble of his hands. The doctor's reaction elicited a triumphant grin; she had been waiting for this, to be able to unbalance him – her! – with these facts even if it was remarkable that even this revelation, this gross error in an otherwise ingenious plan, wasn't enough to make Araide lose his composure. One, maybe two seconds, then he had himself completely under control again. At least on the outside.

"But of course you couldn't have known that, _Doctor Araide_. Since the police reports that you've stolen didn't mention anything of that. It was necessary for you to steal the reports, to be able to appear as a witness in court and in order to not attract attention – after all, a single murder case wasn't supposed to ruin the whole plan." With a disarming smile Jodie looked at the young man in front of her – she was sure that her deductions were correct. After almost five years of this game of cat and mouse she had learnt to assess her opponent's character fairly well. "Am I not right?"

Araide had made a step forwards and was now staring at Jodie in a mixture of amazement and disbelief. Before, he had thrown several scrutinizing glances towards the passenger side of Jodie's Peugeot from time to time, but now his attention was completely focused on the blond woman. Even his posture had changed. The young doctor seemed alarmed.  
"Who are you?"

Jodie's lips contorted into a smile. Then, after a moment during which she enjoyed her quiet triumph, she spoke.  
"A secret makes a woman a woman." Jodie's voice was quiet and yet each of her words was clearly audible. "Do you remember? These were your last words to me... I've been repeating them many times since that fateful night so as not to forget them... The words spoken by the enemy who killed my father." Her glance turned harder, it nearly pierced into her opponent. "Right? Chris Vineyard..." She raised an eyebrow, challenging him. "No..."

A delicate smile on his face, Tomoaki Araide reached for his chin, digging his fingers into the skin there. For less than two seconds the skin there seemed to stretch, and wrinkles began to form. Then, with a ripping sound, he pulled the mask from his face.  
Impassively, Jodie observed how a young and pretty woman with long blond hair and ice-blue eyes appeared from behind the mask of the friendly school doctor. The FBI agent narrowed her eyes and a triumphant smile appeared on her face. Chris – or rather Sharon – Vineyard. Finally.

"Vermouth."

The mere sight of the blond woman, who was now standing in front of the car with a self-assured smile on her lips, made Jodie's blood boil. So there she was. The woman who had stared at her from countless pictures in files and from TV screens every day for years. In one hand she was still holding the latex mask, with which she had managed to impersonate Tomoaki Araide, and Jodie grimaced almost imperceptibly – it was eerie how easily that woman managed to adopt another's identity. That was what made Vermouth so dangerous. You could never be sure whether she wasn't sitting right next to you in the overcrowded train or whether she was hiding behind the friendly smile of an elderly pedestrian.  
But Jodie wasn't afraid. She knew Vermouth, had studied her like a work of art. Even as a teenager she had started to collect information about the murderer of her father. It hadn't been much – several newspaper articles about the terrible fire that had cost two people their lives. Working for the FBI had given her more opportunities – on her first visit to the archives she had made and taken with her a copy of the statement she had given to James Black, her father's colleague, directly after the fire. She had absorbed every single little bit of information about Sharon Vineyard and her alleged daughter Chris, however insignificant it may have seemed. She knew with whom she was dealing. And she wasn't afraid. Not of a woman who was hiding behind masks.

"You set the fire that burned our house to ashes – and my parents."  
For a short moment Jodie imagined hearing the roar of the flames, feeling he heat on her face, that she had experienced back then, twenty years ago. Back then, when she had come back from the nearby supermarket, clutching a bottle of orange juice in her hands. She had been happy – her father had surely woken by now and she would bring him his favourite juice. He would have a big sip, would smile at her – maybe he would even stroke her hair as he often did – and he would finally read her a bedtime story.  
For the fraction of a second she closed her eyes; she shook her head to get rid of the images of the blazing fire, the motionless form of her father, the corpse of her mother that was burnt beyond recognition.

"The fire has destroyed all the files about you that my father possessed , and you could escape unnoticed."

They were facing each other – ready to make the next move to gain the upper hand. And Jodie knew, she wouldn't lose. She would finally be able to sleep well at night. But before that she needed an answer.

"Why don't you age?"  
It was this question that had occupied Jodie for weeks, months. Ever since she had got to the mysterious truth. Sharon and Chris Vineyard did not only share their DNA – they were the same person. And she would tell her how she had managed that. A delicate smile spread over Jodie's face – today Vermouth would reveal her secrets. Whether she wanted to or not.

"Answer me!"

Vermouth's lips twisted into a smile and the blond woman nodded slowly. "Okay... I will tell you, Miss Starling. It's like this..." While she was speaking, her hand moved to her jacket and Jodie narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Every single one of her muscles was tense as she observed Vermouth's hand slowly wandering underneath the jacket. Then everything happened really fast. In the blink of an eye both women took hold of their guns, pulled them from their holsters and pointed them at each other. The steel of both guns was shining in the moonlight. For several fractions of a second the world seemed to still; it seemed as though all eyes were on them. Then two shots whipped through the air and Vermouth's gun was snatched out of her hand.  
Shocked, the actress gasped and held her wrist for a few seconds. Then she slowly raised her hands, threw a mocking glance towards the gun that was pointed at her. "The pistol in your hands is no toy, Miss Starling. Do you even possess a Japanese licence for it?" An eager grin made its way into her expression.

Jodie snorted. She knew Vermouth was simply trying to unsettle her, searching for an escape. She was an actress, had learnt to manipulate others and to use them for her own purposes – like marionettes, whose strings she was holding in her hands.

Her hand was completely calm as she held the gun pointed at the woman who had taken everything from her. Her parents, her childhood, her life. Jodie gritted her teeth and her fingers tensed around the gun. It was her task to ensure that Chris Vineyard – Sharon Vineyard, Vermouth – got her just punishment. At the same time it would be so easy to simply pull the trigger – she could still claim it had been self-defence. Everybody would believe her. They would have no reason to doubt her word and everybody knew how dangerous the killer was. Her index finger bent more strongly around the trigger. Her heart shouted at her to fire, to put an end to it all, to take revenge. Why should this woman live, while her parents – and so many others – hadn't gotten the chance to live? Why had their lives had to end, while Vermouth would get to live – in a cell, but alive. _She deserved to die!_  
And yet Jodie's arm was trembling slightly, she blinked frantically to hold back her tears. Her gun was still pointed at her opponent, ready to fire, but Jodie knew deep inside she wouldn't pull the trigger. No. She wasn't a murderer. She wasn't like Vermouth. And there were worse punishments than death. Chris Vineyard should suffer. She should remember every single day that she had wasted her life, that she had besmirched it by committing these heinous crimes. She should see the faces of her victims in her sleep and hear their voices when she was awake.  
Jodie shook her head resolutely, her grip on the gun relaxed slightly and she turned her head towards the containers, behind which her colleagues were waiting.

"Guys! Come out and hold this woman!"

The thought that in a few seconds' time a dozen pistols would be pointed at Vermouth brought a fleeting grin to her face. This was her triumph.

Slowly the FBI agent walked backwards, moved towards the passenger side of her car – she would prefer not to be in the line of fire when her colleagues made their move. With her eyes fixed on Vermouth, she kept the barrel of her Colt trained on her the whole time. "Game over," she whispered, barely loud enough for Vermouth to hear. The blond murderer's expression turned into a wide grin and Jodie frowned. What was that? Was she happy about having been caught?  
The agent was about to open her mouth and ask her opponent that very question when the shot was fired. At first, Jodie was confused; she only heard the shot, but could not place the source of the noise. Then, only a split second later, she felt a thud that drove the air from her lungs. Jodie gasped, choking, as her body automatically writhed in pain, bending over. For several moments she stood there, only barely able to hold herself up. Then she stumbled backwards, as her body could not support her weight any longer. She felt the impact on her shoulder as she fell against the roof of her car and she heard a splat, but it did not really register with her. All the sounds around her were muffled, her surroundings appeared surreal. Like through a shroud of fog she felt her legs collapse beneath her before she slid slowly down the door of her car. She heard Vermouth talking but could not make out the words. Then, suddenly, she felt a sharp pain to her side and she turned her head a bit to look down on herself. Red. There was nothing but red. Jodie knew immediately that this red, warm fluid on her side was blood. _Her_ blood.  
The realisation ripped through her like an electric shock; from one second to the next she felt ice-cold and the tiny hair on her arms and neck bristled. For several seconds she was incapable of acting. Her thoughts were spinning around in her head and she was incapable of holding on to even one of them. Several times one of them would push itself to the fore – a blurred black and white image, the flash of a thin blue line on a white background – but before Jodie could grasp it, could hold unto it, it was gone again.  
And it was only then, in these moments, several seconds after the bullet had pierced her body, that the pain reached her. At first it was only an uncomfortable, almost imperceptible burn, but less than a second later Jodie felt as though her body was on fire. Instinctively she pressed a hand on the wound on her side, trying to stop the bleeding.

She heard steps and the next moment she could see Vermouth bending over her. Jodie didn't even try to defend herself as the murderer pulled the gun from her feeble fingers – she knew she wouldn't stand a chance. In this moment Vermouth was vastly superior.  
"W-Where are...?" she asked quietly, still panting. Several moments passed, but she received no answer. Jodie felt the warm blood running over her hand and slowly the panic began to spread inside her. Where were her colleagues, the backup? What was Vermouth going to do to her?  
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she heard a quiet giggle. Jodie forced herself to keep her eyes open and raised her head until she could look into Vermouth's face. The actress was still standing in front of her, less than three steps away from her and she was watching her with an arrogant grin on her carefully painted lips.  
"Are you perhaps missing your backup?" She laughed, the sound was clear as a bell and it reverberated across the quiet quay and drowned even Jodie's frantic breathing. "Your colleagues have long been gone, they're probably all back in their homes. Haven't you noticed that you were being watched all this time? I was here two hours ago, dressed up as you, Miss Starling..." She threw her hair back, grinning. "I simply stood here and used your voice." Vermouth straightened up and waved her arms around as though she was on stage. "That's it for tonight! Come back tomorrow!" The blond killer sat back down, throwing a searching look into the cylinder of the Colt. Obviously satisfied with what she saw there – three remaining bullets – she nodded.

Jodie didn't hear what she was saying. It wasn't important. She had been shot, was bleeding heavily and was afraid. She concentrated on her breathing, tried to calm down. She had to stay calm. It was important that she didn't hyperventilate or pass out. She could not endanger her baby even more. The thought was fleeting and yet it struck her like lightning. _Her baby_! What happened to her baby!? Jodie froze and felt the panic rising inside her. Why hadn't she thought about the baby before? What if the bullet had hit it? If it had been killed? What if... stop! She had to calm down. She wasn't safe yet and she also had to protect the girl who was sitting in her car – Vermouth wouldn't let her live just because she was a little child. And the gunshot wound didn't seem to be all that deep and was close to the side of her abdomen. It was therefore unlikely that something had happened to her baby. It was alright. Surely.

But despite her more or less successful attempts at calming down she was still afraid for the tiny life that had been growing inside of her for several weeks now. Laboriously she raised the other arm and laid her hand on her abdomen. With a fleeting glance in Vermouth's direction – the killer was too sure of her victory to pay her any attention – the FBI agent closed her eyes and listened to her inner voice. She tried to drown out the pain and to concentrate completely on the barely perceptible movements of her child. It had been only two days ago that she had started to feel something – most of the time it was just a weak flutter, as though there were a butterfly flying around in her belly – and her child seemed to be innately calm. But now Jodie hoped that the unborn child would show her through its movements – it didn't matter how strong or weak they were as long as she could only feel them! - that it was still alive and well. For a few seconds she didn't move but the only thing she felt was the burning wound in her side. She couldn't feel the movements of her child. Maybe they were too weak for her to feel them despite the pain. Or her child was no longer alive.  
"Please," she murmured and gritted her teeth, as another wave of pain made its way through her body. Please. A tiny flutter. A barely perceptible twist. Anything.

"It's time to end our small reunion. It's time to say goodbye."

Vermouth's voice and the significant click of the hammer tore Jodie from her silent prayer – she wasn't very pious, but it was one of these moments when the existence of an almighty and caring God was very enticing. Laboriously she opened her eyes and looked up... Vermouth was standing directly before her and was pointing her gun at her head, a malicious grin on her lips.

"Hey, smile. You'll get to meet your daddy in heaven soon."

Jodie didn't react. She was sweating, black dots were flickering through her vision again and again and her muscles were trembling due to the exertion – a reaction to the ebbing wave of adrenalin. She knew she wouldn't last much longer – sooner or later she would lose the fight against her body and unconsciousness would take her. Although she would most likely be dead before that.

Vermouth made a step forwards, and pressed the cold steel against Jodie's forehead. Jodie froze. Her first instinct told her to close her eyes but she did not. Instead she stared into her opponent's face, and tried to forget about the steel on her skin and the warm blood on her abdomen.

Vermouth was smiling, her eyes cold and hard. Her finger bent on the trigger and Jodie saw the muscles in her arm tense. With a slight jerk she closed her eyes and said a silent goodbye to the world and her loved ones. Shuichi. James. Her baby.

At least she would meet her father again.

In that moment there was a sound of breaking glass. Thousands of tiny splinters rained down on Jodie and instinctively she turned to the side to protect her head and belly. She heard a surprised pant, a dull impact and a quiet rattle.

Slowly the agent opened her eyes again and tried to assess the situation around her. Vermouth had made a few backward steps and was clutching her hand. She had lost her Colt and Jodie detected it a few metres away near a container. There was a football lying directly beside it. It was still moving a bit, as though it had just bounced off of something.

Next to her the car's door was unbolted with a characteristic click and with quite a lot of effort Jodie turned her head in the direction of the sound. With her eyes narrowed to small slits due to the pain she watched as the door slowly opened and Ai Haibara climbed out. The girl had taken off the mask and her shoes – red trainers that were quite atypical for a girl – seemed to be wrapped in some kind of energy.

Slowly the strawberry blond child stepped forward, right towards the blond murderer. Vermouth stared at her as though she had seen a ghost, she even made a step backwards. "But... you... you are..." she stuttered and Ai twisted her mouth into a confident grin. "Correct." Just like Vermouth had done it less than an hour ago, she took hold of her chin and pulled the mask from her face with a jolt. A dark, almost black mop of hair and a pair of intelligent blue eyes appeared. Conan Edogawa, self-proclaimed detective, grinned triumphantly.

"C-Cool Kid?" Disbelieving, Jodie stared at the primary school kid. What was he doing? Why had he passed himself off as the girl? She could see that he was wearing something in his ear – a receiver. Did he receive instructions from somewhere? Or... was it he who gave instructions to somebody else? Instinctively she let her glance wander over the containers. But apart from her own clipped breathing everything was quiet. It seemed as though the entire harbour had frozen in amazement.

* * *

Conan didn't pay attention to the alleged English teacher. He focussed completely on the blond woman in front of him, following each and every one of her movements with his eyes. She may have lost her gun but that didn't mean she wasn't still armed. Perhaps she was carrying a knife or even a second pistol hidden somewhere on her body. He also couldn't forget about the sniper.

"Okay, Kudo. We have finished over here. Now concentrate on your case. And... good luck."

A delicate, barely visible smile flitted across Conan's face. Heiji had done his job well. He had given him the necessary cover, and together with his mother and Professor Agasa they had made sure he got to perform in two places at once. He had decided to take Haibara's place as it was less likely that Vermouth would make an appearance at the party.

He had received two surprises that night. He really wouldn't have thought that Ran's lively teacher was an FBI agent. That was an interesting turn – apparently the organisation was even more powerful than he'd thought if even the American investigating authority had taken notice of them. He also had the feeling that he had already met Vermouth – or Chris Vineyard, how Jodie had called her – once before. He couldn't exactly tell where, although he did have a suspicion. A very concrete suspicion. And somehow he hoped very much he was wrong about that.

A movement tore the shrunken detective from his thoughts. Immediately he raised his arm, opened up the aiming device of his watch and aimed it at the killer. "Don't move. Your body offers us protection from the sniper. Get in the car after Miss Jodie. You'll drive with us to the police." He threw a glance back to the woman who was leaning in a sitting position against the car. In the meantime she had laid her hands on her stomach and Conan noticed her sweating profusely. The bleeding didn't seem to have lessened noticeably. He frowned worriedly. She needed to see a doctor soon. "Miss Jodie, get in the car," he instructed her and watched her trying to get up. But almost immediately she sank back to the ground with a pant and a face twisted in pain. Conan's expression darkened. She really wasn't in a good state. He wasn't deluding himself – if Vermouth was indeed still carrying a weapon on her they had a bad chance of winning. He didn't think the FBI agent would be able to overcome the murderer in that state and he himself didn't stand a chance either. The football was out of his reach and he couldn't see a rock or an empty can he would be able to use as a missile. His only defence was the tranquillizer wristwatch, but even if he managed to incapacitate Vermouth they still had to deal with the sniper. He did carry a second tranquillizer dart with him, but it would be useless given the distance – not to mention the fact he couldn't even make him out well enough in the dark. And even if he made it to the pistol Vermouth had lost earlier, this child's body wasn't made for aiming and shooting accurately.

The shrunken detective frowned and focussed his attention completely back on Vermouth, who suddenly seemed preoccupied by something else. She turned her head and just as a delicate smile appeared on her lips Conan heard it as well. The sound of a fast approaching car. He turned his head slightly and observed the taxi stopping in some distance and somebody getting out. Due to the distance and the darkness he wasn't able to make out the face of the passenger, but the small build gave him a bad hunch. Perhaps for the first time in his life, Shinichi Kudo truly hoped he was mistaken.

* * *

"Haibara! What are you doing, you idiot? Go, leave this place!"

Through a fog of pain Jodie followed the events playing out before her. She hated herself for not being able to do anything, but at the moment she wasn't even capable of standing on her own two feet. Nevertheless she tried to keep both Vermouth and Conan within her view. If it came to the worst, should Vermouth for example try to shoot the boy, she could hopefully intervene and prevent worse from happening. She just wanted to do her job. It was difficult – more and more she lost her focus and got closer to fainting – and if she was being honest, she didn't really believe Vermouth was going to kill the boy. Jodie couldn't explain it but the killer seemed to protect Conan. Why else would she have stood in front of him during the bus kidnapping case and risked her own life?

"Now go and leave!" Conan shouted at the small red-headed girl and Jodie noticed that she had seldom seen the smart boy so panic-stricken as in that moment. Unrestrained panic was written on his childish face, not a spark of his usual unreal calm and seriousness was visible. He was really and truly afraid. Afraid for this girl – Ai Haibara. Jodie remembered having seen him once before in such a state – back when he'd realised the small girl had remained in the bus that was about to blow up any second. Back then he'd also been scared. And back then it had also been about Ai Haibara. What was it about this girl?

In that moment Conan gasped in surprise and only a few seconds later his body went limp. Jodie wanted to reach for him automatically, but before he could slump to the ground Vermouth took hold of his arms. "Good night, baby..." she murmured and something about the tone of her voice sent a chill down Jodie's spine. She watched alarmed how the killer leaned the small body against the open car door. Immediately the agent's gaze went over his body, searching for a wound. But there was nothing. Conan seemed completely unscathed. Only now Jodie noticed the child's steady and deep breathing and a wave of relief ran through her. Conan wasn't dead, he was just sleeping – she must have drugged him somehow.

"And welcome..."

Vermouth hat straightened herself in the meantime and was now holding a small-bore pistol in her hand – a model that could easily be hidden in a small handbag and was often carried by police agents during undercover missions in a holster on the ankle or thigh.

"Sherry!" With a diabolical grin Vermouth turned to the newcomer – a strawberry blond girl, not a year older than eight – and pointed her gun at her. The _real_ Ai Haibara – at least Jodie hoped it was her, even if that meant that Vermouth was aiming at a defenceless child. But she was really sick of disguise artists and mask-wearing children.

* * *

A smile of acknowledgement crept in on Vermouth's expression. If there was one thing to be said about Shiho Miyano – she definitely had courage. The mere fact that she had come here, after all the strings Cool Guy had pulled to keep her away. He hadn't wanted to see her in danger. Chris shook her head. Shinichi Kudo was way too kind-hearted – others always seemed more important to him than he himself. He was protecting this girl; despite her being the reason for Conan Edogawa's existence and the fact that he had to hide his identity. And still he tried to protect her from her fate.

"Fine. I'll leave them alone, your little friends... Except for this FBI agent. I can't let her go – her time had already run out twenty years ago." The killer turned her head, casting a glance at Jodie Starling, who was sitting propped up against the car with her face contorted in pain and pressing her hands against her abdomen. Vermouth noticed that one of her hands was laying slightly further to the right. She raised an eyebrow in surprise. Who would have thought. For a moment an image flashed before her inner eye – a small girl with blond hair and curious, blue eyes – but she pushed the memory away immediately. It could not be helped. In that case simply another life would be ended that night, before it had truly started.

She tried to focus back on her target, on Sherry. She couldn't let herself get distracted. That bitch had to die!

"At least you're not so stupid as to believe you could escape us, Sherry." She smiled, a cold and calculating gesture through and through.

Slowly Vermouth made a step towards the girl – no, the woman – pointing the pistol right at her head. "It's time to say goodbye, Sherry." Another step. Her heels clacked quietly on the asphalt. It almost seemed like a countdown. Ten, nine, eight... Each step a number. Each step another second that passed.

Sherry didn't move, stared at her fearlessly. She was waiting for her fate to catch her, welcomed it almost with open arms.

"I... before I have to die... answer me just this question. Tell me why you hate me so much, Vermouth? What have I done to you?"

The sudden question unbalanced Chris. She stopped, her eyes widened. For a few seconds she was speechless, then the well-known grin was back on her face. Cold, unpredictable, without any kind of emotion. And yet nothing but a mask in this moment.

"Hate? Foolish girl. I don't hate you. So don't hold me responsible for your death, but your stupid parents, who absolutely had to research that damn poison." Chris narrowed her eyes to slits. As though it hadn't ruined enough lives. Again an image appeared before her inner eye – a view of both past and future at the same time.

A dark figure, a single bullet, the tortured cry of a mother. Clipped sobbing, full of fear. An ear-piecing bang and then – silence. Shining red in light hair, wide-opened blue eyes. _Chris_.

With a jerk the blond woman closed her eyes, and forcefully pushed the memories to the furthest corner of her brain. She knew that she wouldn't be able to banish the image of these empty blue eyes completely. Not even the litres of alcohol which she drowned on some nights managed to do that – all those times when she wanted to do nothing else but escape this world and its cruelty. But she couldn't escape – not from this atrocious business in which she'd got caught, nor from the child's dead blue eyes. Each time she spoke her name, each time somebody called her name, she remembered. These innocent eyes, the fearful cry on rosy lips that still made her wake with a start at night. "_Mummy!_"

But perhaps this was good. It was important that she did not forget why she was doing all this. For whom she did this.

A noise made her spin around. The boot of Starling's car was opened in a quick movement and before Chris could react, a figure appeared on the roof of the Peugeot. A girl with long dark brown hair that was flying behind her in the wind as she began to run. _Angel!_ The realisation hit Vermouth like a punch and she heard Starling and Sherry gasp as well. Then the first bullets hit the asphalt. Calvados had opened the fire on Ran Mouri.

For a fleeting moment panic gripped her. He would kill her!

"Wait, Calvados!" she called out to the sniper. The shots stopped, but not for long. Only seconds later new bullets came her way, beat against the car's roof and left ugly scratches on the dark paintwork, but they hardly ever staved holes. He was too good a shooter for that.

Ran wasn't going to let being shot at deter her. Perhaps she wasn't even really aware of it – Chris knew what an incredible effect an adrenaline rush could have. With a few longs steps Ran had gone across the car and jumped to the ground again – directly in front of Sherry. Alarmed, the girl took a few steps backwards, but Ran's run-up knocked her down as the high schooler pounced on the supposed primary school pupil. Ran turned them both around during their fall so that her shoulder would cushion most of the impact. Calvados continued to shoot, the bullets hitting the ground just millimetres away from Ran's legs.

Vermouth snarled. Damn idiot, couldn't even follow simple orders.

"I've told you to wait, damn it!" she hissed, pointed her Colt in his general direction and shot once. She heard the bullet hit the container and almost immediately the hail of bullets subsided. Vermouth remained tense for several seconds, her finger around the trigger, ready to shoot again. But no more bullets were coming. Calvados had understood her warning.

With slow steps she moved towards Angel, who was pressing Sherry to the ground with her body and who had her arms tightly wound around the small girl. The handy pistol lay securely in her hand.

"Let the brown-haired girl go." She made another step forward, her heels clacking on the asphalt. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jodie shaking Conan's shoulder, but naturally he wouldn't wake any time soon. These tranquillizer darts, which he used, were strong enough to send the average adult to sleep for one or two hours. A child would be incapacitated for much longer. Cool Guy couldn't help Sherry now.

She turned her attention back to Ran, who was still lying protectively over Sherry. Chris could see the astonishment on her victim's face. She raised an eyebrow. Sherry hadn't counted on somebody protecting her, that somebody would throw himself right in the line of fire – for her. The killer contorted her mouth into a barely visible, melancholic smile. _Angel. You stupid, stupid girl_.

"If you don't want to die, let her go!" she shouted to the girl and hoped that her unrest – her fear – went unnoticed.

She didn't want to harm Ran – not after she had shown her that everybody, even people like her, had a guardian angel looking over them somewhere. But Vermouth also knew that – if it came to the worst case – she couldn't prevent it. She wouldn't let Sherry escape. No. The bitch had to pay. She couldn't punish her parents, who were responsible for all this, anymore. And Akemi, the elder of the two Miyano sisters, was long since history as well. This left only Sherry. It was just. After all it had been her who had continued to research this poison that had destroyed so many lives – she had taken it without batting an eye. But Angel shouldn't have to suffer for it. Not Angel. And neither should Cool Guy. She still needed him. He was her silver bullet – the one who would deal the organisation the final and lethal blow. She simply knew it. Perhaps it was stupid. She had set her hopes on an extraordinary young man once before and was disappointed. Shuichi Akai hadn't managed to destroy the organisation, to give her back at least a part of her peace. But now everything was different. Shinichi Kudo would prevail. He would survive and he would set her free.

The pistol in Vermouth's hand was trembling almost imperceptibly as she made yet another step in Ran's direction. "Let go of the brown-haired girl!" Her voice was almost calm, composed and revealed nothing of her inner tension, her agitation. She had become one with the role she was playing.

Ran didn't react. The girl pressed Sherry's smaller body to hers and pressed the head gently to the ground. Seconds passed without anything happening – it seemed as though they were paralysed. Vermouth, her gun aimed at her victim; Ran, protecting the supposed child. And with each second that passed Vermouth turned more nervous. Her glance darted in the direction where Calvados was positioned. He still had his rifle cocked and she knew he could reopen the fire at any time. In that case she wouldn't be able to intervene without reinforcing the mistrust of the other organisation member. She had to make sure that Angel left this place. Now.

Vermouth swore and closed her eyes for a moment. _Forgive me, Angel._

Then she pointed her gun at the two bodies lying on the ground and fired. One bullet after the other smashed into the asphalt near Ran's feet – distant enough so as not to hit her, but close enough to make her flinch in panic every time a bullet was shot.

In that moment a hollow click could be heard from the pistol and Chris looked up in surprise, casting a glance at the weapon in her hand. The Colt's magazine was empty, she had fired all her shots.

Automatically she reloaded, pointed the gun again at the bodies before her.

"Let her go!"

Ran didn't react, didn't budge a centimetre from her protective position over Sherry. Vermouth's hand trembled. And yet her index finger found the trigger, ready to curl around it completely and send another volley of bullets towards her helpless victims.

In that moment more images came flashing before her inner eye. Images of a remote night in New York, the city they called the Big Apple. It had been raining that night, when she had been on a chase. Chasing Shuichi Akai, the FBI agent they would come to call silver bullet shortly thereafter.  
He had turned the tables and then it had been her who was being chased. Fleeing, she had found herself in that alleyway, had hidden in that empty building and had laid in wait for him to arrive. But everything had happened differently. Suddenly that girl had appeared – Ran Mouri, the friend of Shinichi Kudo, the son of her old friend Yukiko. She had been leaning against the railing while she was screwing the silencer onto her pistol and suddenly the rusty metal behind her had given way. She would have fallen, had not suddenly slender fingers grasped her arm and held her.

"What are you doing? Take my hand!"

Angel. The girl that had saved her, even though she should have died – executed by the woman with the countless masks.

"Move it, Angel!"

Chris had not yet finished speaking when she felt a burning pain on her arm. And only now did she manage to place the sound she had heard less than a second before. It had been the sound of a gun shot.

Automatically she looked over to Starling's car, but the agent had vanished. The only sign that she had been sitting there lately, facing death, was the trace of blood that was relatively easy to make out on the dark paint of the car.

Alarmed, Vermouth turned around, one hand pressed against her upper arm to stem the bleeding. It was only a graze – it seemed Jodie couldn't even aim properly anymore. She spotted the blond agent at once – Jodie was sitting with her back against a container, her left hand pressed to the gun shot wound at her side and her other hand holding the Colt. Her hand was trembling – it was barely visible, but it was easy for Vermouth to see the light tremor of the muscles; her eyes were trained to notice such small signs – but the FBI agent held the gun pointed straight at her opponent.

* * *

"How... how did you...?"

Jodie could clearly hear the surprise in Vermouth's voice. The killer had already seen herself as this night's winner, had believed she had the upper hand and had not expected that Jodie wasn't completely beat yet. But as long as she breathed she wouldn't let Vermouth win. Never.

"The sniper can't target me here." Jodie noticed that her voice was trembling and it was getting harder to keep her eyes open; not to sink into the calming blackness that seemed to engulf her more and more. She couldn't anymore. And she wouldn't either. She was injured, she was in pain, she was confused and it was cold. She was longing to fall into a warm soft bed and be able to close her eyes and ignore all the hate, the fury, the fears and concerns of the world.

But she still had something to do.

"Drop the gun, Vermouth!" she ordered and tried to put as much authority as possible into her voice that was trembling due to her exhaustion. Vermouth didn't react, she simply stared at her impassively, the gun still cocked.

"Drop it or the next bullet will go between your eyes!" she shouted desperately. She knew she had no chance to hold her own against Vermouth. Not when she was barely able to move and there were three civilians in the way.

Then she heard steps, followed by the significant sound of the safety catch on a gun being released. Jodie froze. It took only moments until her brain had registered the noise and had assigned it correctly. A shotgun.

"Ok, Calvados. Finish her."

Calvados. Vermouth's lackey. They didn't know much about him – he had been a mercenary in Afghanistan, but the FBI didn't have much more information about the man. They didn't even knew his real name.

Tense, Jodie listened to the approaching steps. In a few moments he would appear from behind the container and most likely open fire on her immediately. Something inside her clenched uncomfortably as she realised that she would die in a few seconds. She was aware of the fact that she had no chance at all against an armed person and she couldn't expect mercy. Vermouth would never let her live. She knew way too much by now and Vermouth always played it safe, she always had a plan B up her sleeve. And she wanted to clear up her mistake from twenty years ago.

The steps became louder and she heard Vermouth giggling quietly. She seemed to know exactly that Jodie had long since realised the hopelessness of her situation and apparently she enjoyed seeing her rival so helpless.

Jodie didn't hear what Vermouth was saying – the agent was lost in her thoughts. She was thinking of that one evening several weeks ago. She had come home from a tiring school conference and had found her partner in front of her door. Shuichi had trailed a potential member of the organisation – nobody of importance, but they had wanted to use them to get closer to the higher-ups – but he had lost them in the course of the evening. He had been so frustrated that Jodie had let him into her flat without further ado. They had had a drink and one thing had led to another. The next morning she had woken up alone in her bed – he must have taken her there, after all they had pounced on each other on the couch – and apart from the empty bottle of bourbon and the fleeting smell of cigarette smoke nothing had indicated that Shuichi had ever set foot into her flat – and bedroom.

Jodie swallowed and felt her eyes mist over. She would never get the chance to tell him that she was still in love with him. She would never hold her baby in her arms, be simply happy. Because she had been so damn stupid.

"Eh? So his name is Calvados..."

The voice interrupted Jodie's thoughts, she lifted her head with a jolt and she stared at the darkness behind her. Her heart was beating frantically against her chest and as the figure slowly left the shadows she couldn't prevent a relieved smily blossoming on her face. Instantly she relaxed a bit, sinking back slightly. Shuichi was here. Now everything would be well.

"He had a rifle, a shotgun and three pistols on him. I thought he might be an arms dealer."

The black-haired agents completely emerged from the shadow and stopped. Casually he balanced the shotgun – a Remington 870 - on his left shoulder, while the rifle he had taken from the sniper was hanging from his right.

"Shuichi Akai!?"

Vermouth, too, had turned towards the newcomer and for a short moment Jodie could see the surprise on her carefully made up face before she had herself back under control. She hadn't expected him to be there still.

"Shuu!" Jodie felt relief flooding through her and she allowed herself to close her eyes for a short moment. In that instant she didn't have to concern herself with Vermouth and her safety – Shuichi wouldn't let anything happen to her.

She lowered the Colt and laid her hand on her abdomen for a few seconds, allowing herself a short moment of silent dialogue. _Soon we'll be safe, little one._

* * *

Shuichi didn't pay attention to Jodie. He was focussing completely on Vermouth – and the gun she was still holding. His appearance seemed to have rattled her but that was no reason to underestimate her. She was still dangerous – and Jodie was still directly in the line of fire. The agent ground his teeth and now he risked a quick glance sideways at his partner. She was pale, one hand pressed to her side. And despite the darkness he could clearly make out the blood between her fingers. The dark red stood in stark contrast to her almost white skin.

Shuichi clenched his fist, forced his attention from Jodie to the blond woman in front of him. As much as he would like to take care of his partner – he couldn't forget that they were still confronting Vermouth. And her sniper. He allowed himself a spiteful grin.

"Now he's only got a pair of broken legs."

The thought of the mercenary, who the killer had engaged, brought a malicious grin to his face. He could still hear the bones breaking. His glance rested on Vermouth as the blond woman gasped in surprise. She lifted her head and stared into the darkness – to the place where the man called Calvados was lying crippled on the roof of the container – and for a short moment Shuichi thought he saw a trace of sorrow in her look. But the moment was too fleeting for him to interpret it correctly. Not two seconds later she turned to face him completely, her eyes narrowed to furious slits.

Slowly Shuichi stepped forward, positioning himself to stand sideways in front of Jodie so that she wasn't in Vermouth's immediate line of fire. He seemed utterly calm but inside he was furious. Why was Jodie here alone? James had said there would be a team waiting for them here – they all knew how dangerous the woman who went by the name of Vermouth was. So where were their colleagues? Surely Jodie wouldn't have been hurt if that damn backup team was here!

"Calvados is a cider brand, isn't it?" He allowed himself a thin smile. "He's therefore the perfect partner for a rotten apple..."

* * *

Jodie was only vaguely aware of what Shuichi and Vermouth were talking about. Every now and again she picked up bits and pieces of the conversation, but she wasn't able to concentrate on the words and their meaning. She was cold, her limbs seemed to get heavier and her thoughts were a mess. Her baby, Shuichi, the gun in Vermouth's hand – everything seemed to melt together.  
A sudden movement before her made her startle.  
Vermouth had raised her gun, pointing it directly at her. Instinctively Jodie was going to point the Colt at the other woman, but Shuichi was faster. In a rash movement he stepped in front of her, aimed at her with the Remington and fired. The bullet hit Vermouth right in the stomach and knocked the surprised organisation member to the ground, eliciting a choking gasp from her.

Alarmed, Jodie righted herself a bit – or at least she tried to – and reached with one arm for Shuichi as though she would be able to stop him that way. "Shuu, wait! We need her alive!" _She_ needed her alive. The murderer wasn't allowed to die before she hadn't answered her questions.

Shuichi snorted contemptuously, but he lowered the rifle and turned partly in her direction. "Don't worry. Look at her, how she's moving? She's wearing a bullet-proof vest beneath the jacket." A gloating grin darted over his lips. "Although, two or three of her ribs are probably broken."

* * *

Vermouth suppressed a pained gasp – she wouldn't let them humiliate her further – and straightened herself slowly. She threw a furious glance at Akai – that hurt, damn it! - but made no intention of pointing her gun at him. She knew she wouldn't get past Akai, no matter what she tried. A prolonging of this confrontation wasn't very wise, anyway. The damn bastard had broken at least one of her ribs, Calvados was done in – the FBI would never get him, the organisation had rules for such a case, after all – and retreat was her only option. She didn't like it at all that she had to let Starling and Sherry live but it was infinitely better than landing in a FBI cell.

She noticed Conan, who was still propped up against Starling's car and sleeping, and without hesitation she sprinted over to the dark car. He wouldn't shoot at her when the children were in the way. She imagined she heard him shouting in an annoyed manner but she didn't pay attention to his exact words while she was gathering the little boy and pulling him with her into the car. It wasn't important. The only think that mattered was escaping and staying alive. And a short conversation with Cool Guy couldn't hurt, either.

* * *

The tank of the Prius exploded in a ball of fire. Jodie, who had thrown herself protectively over Ran and little Ai, straightened herself with a strained pant when she heard Shuichi's steps behind her.

"She has hit the tank just by looking into the rearview mirror. Impressive."

Jodie's eyes narrowed dangerously and despite the pain she turned around furiously and glared at her partner in outrage. "Shuu! Why are you admiring her!? She's escaping with a hostage! Follow her, damn it! Don't let her get away like that!" Vermouth wasn't allowed to escape. Not again.

Shuichi snorted disparagingly. "And how do you want me to pursue her? Your car is gone." He turned to her and she could see he was trying to hide his anger. He didn't succeed completely.

"You could have at least pulled out the car keys." Even though his voice was calm and objective, Jodie could detect the reproach in it. Like her Shuichi had looked forward to finally arrest Vermouth; to score a triumph against the organisation. And then she had come and mucked it up – again.

Furious, Jodie pressed her lips together and bowed her head. For a moment the pain and the fear for her child were almost forgotten – she only felt hate for herself. Every time she was about to succeed she made a stupid mistake or something idiotic and completely avoidable happened and it went wrong. Maybe Shuichi had been right – she should have gone back to the States weeks ago. But now... Now it was too late.

"I... I'm-I am sorry."

* * *

Shuichi was about to reply but he thought better of it. Later. This wasn't the right time for accusations. First they had to make sure that Jodie's disguise wasn't blown and nobody – especially not the Japanese police – learnt about the recent events.

"I leave you to deal with the rest. Tell the police you're here on holiday and that you got involved into a kidnapping by accident. Vermouth escaped, so nobody would believe anyway what has really happened tonight."

He cast a quick glance at his partner. Jodie nodded shortly, her glance still directed at the ground. Shuichi sighed. She couldn't pretend to him. Vermouth's repeated escape nagged at her. At least they still had the sniper – given the right motivation he would spill what he knew – and maybe he would even lead them directly to Vermouth. Shuichi grinned and turned towards the container where the injured man was lying on the roof. It would be easy to convince Black to let him handle the interrogation.

In that moment they heard the shot. Surprised Shuichi raised an eyebrow. He must have overlooked a gun. Damn. The agent gritted his teeth and clenched his fist. Apparently they had nothing now that would bring them closer to the organisation.

He threw a quick glance over to the two girls, who were still unconscious and lying on the cold asphalt. As he left, he turned once more. "Call me once you get rid of the Japanese police."

With hurried steps he put some distance between himself and his partner and only now that Jodie couldn't see it, his controlled mien gave way to a concerned frown. If he was honest with himself he didn't want to go and leave Jodie there alone. Not that he thought she was still in danger – no, Vermouth had disappeared and probably wouldn't turn up again any time soon. But his partner really didn't look well. She had tried to hide it from him – Jodie, you idiot – but he had noticed very well that she was in pain. He had only been able to look at her wound fleetingly, but it didn't seem to be fatal; if she was lucky, her vital organs wouldn't be damaged.

He had only walked a few metres away from Jodie but his steps became more hesitant until he stopped completely. No. He couldn't go and leave Jodie alone. But he didn't want to risk being seen by that little girl. If she really was who he believed her to be it was better if he didn't show himself. It would destroy too much and reopen wounds, something they really couldn't afford right now. Especially now that Jodie had to come to terms with yet another defeat against Vermouth – she would never admit it, but every time the actress got away, a small part of Jodie's soul was gone, too. It wasn't necessary to remind her of the past and his betrayal as well. Shuichi swallowed and clenched his fist. The memories of Akemi still hurt. But so did the memory of Jodie's face as he ended their relationship – in that moment she had looked at him through her blue eyes that revealed just how incredibly sad and hurt she was – he would never be able to forget that look. Still it had been necessary. Otherwise he would have hurt her so much more.

Shuichi took a deep breath and was about to continue walking - he would look for a good lookout nearby to keep a close eye on Jodie – when he heard a choking pant behind him. Alarmed the agent turned around – just in time to see Jodie, who had stood up in the meantime, stumble for several seconds and then simply collapse.

"Jodie!"

With only a few long steps Shuichi was next to the young woman and caught her before she could hit the ground. Carefully he let them both sink to the ground, supporting her. The agent felt a surge of panic as he noticed that Jodie's eyes were closed and that she did not react to him. Frantically he let his glance wander over her body, and tried to locate the injury. As his looked at her hands, the agent had to swallow. They were full of blood. The wound seemed to be worse than he had originally assumed.

"Damn!" Swearing Shuichi grasped the mobile phone in his pocket and called an ambulance. In few words he explained the situation and ended the call before the young woman on the phone could ask too many questions that had nothing to do with Jodie or the kind of injury.

He dropped the phone carelessly into his pocket and turned his attention immediately back to his partner. Jodie was pale and she was sweating, although her skin was as cold as ice. Concerned, Shuichi laid a hand on her neck, searching for her pulse. He found it only after several moments – it was a disconcertingly uneven beat, but it was there.

* * *

It seemed like an eternity to Shuichi till he could finally make out the ambulance in the distance. He sat propped up against a container, Jodie's head resting carefully in his lap while he was stroking her hair every once in a while. He felt so incredibly helpless.

The two girls were still unconscious. It was probably for the better that way – after all he preferred not showing himself to the little girl that had such resemblance to Shiho – and Akemi.

It took only a few seconds more until four pairs of headlights entered the dockland area and came quickly closer. Two ambulances and two police cars.

Shuichi grimaced and swore quietly as he stood up in a hurry and laid Jodie's head carefully on the asphalt. He had forgotten that the girl – Jodie had called her Ran – had called the police. His glance wandered to the containers. Hopefully they didn't think to search the area for clues. The sniper may be dead but it would be better if the FBI dealt with the corpse. They didn't know if Calvados had been carrying something that could establish a link to the organisation or even the unauthorised investigations of the FBI – it was far too risky if the local police got their hands on such material.

He had to disappear from this place before somebody noticed him. He had no time for questions and he also had several guns on him still – his own and the ones he had taken from the sniper. That would surely leave an unfavourable impression with the police – if he were lucky they would first ask and then start shooting. He threw a glance at the approaching cars, estimating how much time he had left. Then he pulled the Smith &amp; Wesson out of Jodie's coat. He tucked it into the waistband next to his own gun and hid them with his jacket. He had to get rid of the arms first, then he could take care of the rest – Jodie and the corpse of the sniper. With a sullen sigh he straightened up, once more pulling a strand of hair out of Jodie's face before he turned to go.

"Hang in there, you hear me?" he murmured and departed the scene with hasty steps. He knew the paramedics would take good care of her. Nevertheless it didn't make the fact that he had to leave his injured partner any easier on him.

* * *

Restlessly Shuichi Akai placed one foot in front of the other, with long steps he crossed the waiting area of the Beika central hospital, whose walls were painted in an ugly mint green. Once he reached the other side he made a U-turn and headed for the other end of the hall. Again and again he looked towards the big milky glass doors at the end of the entrance hall, where a sign clearly spelt "Operating Department". But even after four hours, nothing stirred behind the doors and slowly he was really starting to get worried. Shuichi growled irritably and finally let himself sink into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs. Automatically he pulled a package of cigarettes out of his pocket, playing with it. Only when he caught the sceptic glance of an elderly lady who was sitting across from him, he put the red box back into his pocket with a sigh. Why did this take so damn long?

"Shuichi Akai?"

When he heard the voice, Shuichi turned around and saw a doctor approach him. The man stood in front of him, his hands folded, his gaze lowered. His posture alone revealed he had not come with good new. Shuichi swallowed, he tried hard to suppress his fear and preparing himself for the worst. He didn't succeed.

"How is she?" His voice was by far not as strong as usual and that made him afraid. He would never forgive himself that something had happened to Jodie and that she may not survive. Not as long as he was her partner, not as long as he took care of her. He didn't dare to admit that he had yet another reason. Admitting that he still loved her, that he would still give his life for her.

The doctor sighed and cast an unnecessary glance at the clipboard in his hand. "Under the present circumstances, she's doing well. The injury isn't all that deep and doesn't worry us much. But Miss Saintemillion has lost a lot of blood and in combination with the blunt trauma to the abdominal wall, that has been caused by the bullet..." The doctor interrupted himself, squinting again at the clipboard and raised his head after several moments to look at Shuichi. "I am very sorry, but there was nothing we could do for the child."

"The child?" Dumbfounded, Shuichi stared at the man. A child? Jodie? What the hell? She wasn't pregnant, he would know that. She would have told him – they talked about everything after all. They were partners. They had next to no secrets between them. Shuichi shook his head. The doctor had to be mistaken. Certainly he had seen the information of another patient on his clipboard and had been confused. Idiot. "Is that supposed to be a joke? If so, it's not funny. Jodie isn't pregnant."

The doctor was obviously surprised, but he didn't let himself be intimidated by Shuichi's glance. He shook his head and tapped with his pen on the documents in his hand. "Miss Saintemillion was twenty-three weeks pregnant. Didn't you know?"

Shuichi was about to answer when suddenly the milky glass doors at the other end of the hall were opened widely and two nurses wheeled a bed towards them. Shuichi recognised several blond strands of hair between the white sheets.

"Jodie!" Without paying further attention to the doctor, Shuichi let him stand there and hurried to his partner. He still heard the doctor's words in his head and he pushed them away with all his might. Surely it wasn't true. It couldn't be true. Because that would mean Jodie had a child with someone – someone who wasn't him! - or he was the father. Shuichi couldn't tell what he found worse.

As he reached Jodie, he slowed his steps. Almost hesitatingly he stepped beside her, taking her hand. He sighed, relieved, as he found her skin a lot warmer than only a few hours before. "Hey," he whispered softly and gave her a furtive look, letting his gaze wander across her body, which was hidden underneath a thick white blanket. Was he imagining things or was there indeed a small bulge?

A quiet rustle pulled Shuichi from his thoughts and he turned his head in the direction from where it came. Jodie had opened her eyes and was looking at him. For a short moment, barely more than the fracture of a second, their eyes met. Then Jodie turned her head away, closed her eyes and seconds later she had fallen asleep. Yet Shuichi had seen the expression on her face. This fatigued and profoundly sad look she had given him. In that moment Shuichi knew that it was true. She had been carrying his child.

For a few seconds he just stared at the mint green-painted walls, then the black-haired agent laid his partner's arm carefully back on the bed, close to her body, and pulled the blanket over the naked skin. Only once he'd made sure that Jodie was properly tucked in, Shuichi turned to the doctor.

"What's happening now? I mean how..." He stopped, swallowed. Couldn't all this be just a goddamn nightmare?

The doctor cast a sympathetic glance at Jodie before he answered. "We're about to induce labour."

* * *

"Sh-Shuu... I'm scared..." Jodie's voice was so small that he wouldn't have understood the words were he not sitting directly next to her head.

Helplessly Shuichi stroked a strand of her sweaty hair out of her face and let his hand rest on her cheek. The skin there was almost alarmingly cool and pale. "Shhhh... Everything will be fine," he murmured and knew at the same time that it was a lie. Nothing would be fine. Nothing at all. Their baby was dead and now Jodie had to make it through this hellish procedure. Just her quiet panting alone when the induced labour pains flooded her body was almost unbearable. In that moment he wished he could change places with Jodie. But he couldn't do anything. He could only sit next to her, could talk her through it – lies, all lies – and hope that it would be over soon so that she could rest.

Shuichi lifted his eyes as a nurse entered the room. She gave him a friendly smile before she went to the foot of the bed to check whether the cervix had widened enough. Shuichi observed the elderly woman for a moment until she straightened herself again and stepped next to Jodie, laying a hand on her arm. "The cervix is wide enough. We'll start soon, Miss Saintemillion."

At her words, Jodie tensed visibly and she grasped for his arm, holding it tightly. Her fingers dug into his skin and Shuichi could see the panic in her eyes. Awkwardly he pressed her hand, trying to give her courage. He knew she was afraid. He was, too.

Then everything happened very fast. Suddenly the nurse was standing at the foot of the bed and addressed Jodie with a contented nod.

"When you feel the next contractions I want you to push as hard as you can, alright?"

Jodie nodded and a fracture of a second later she gasped. Her fingers dug painfully into Shuichi's skin, as her whole body seemed to cramp. She was sweating and as the contractions flooded her body, Jodie opened her eyes and screamed.

Shuichi flinched, his grip around her hand automatically tightening. He wished she wouldn't have to experience this. He wished that in a few hours she would be lying in the bed with a tiny baby in her arms and be overjoyed. But he knew that his wished were nothing but illusions.

* * *

Jodie closed her eyes as she felt the pressure ease up. For a few short seconds she let herself believe she would hear the cry of her newborn baby any second now. But everything remained silent. Of course. Her baby was only twenty-three weeks old. And it was dead. The thought brought tears to her eyes and she bit her lower lip, turning her head away. She didn't want Shuichi seeing her like this. After all, it was her fault. She had knowingly risked her baby only to send Vermouth finally to jail, to get her revenge. And for what? Vermouth had escaped, her questions remained unanswered. And her baby was dead.

"It's a girl."

The quiet voice of the nurse caused Jodie to open her eyes and raise her head. The older woman was still standing at the foot of the bed, but Jodie could she what she was holding in her arm. Her baby. Her daughter. For a few moments she did nothing but stare at the bundle of cloth that held her baby, then she glanced towards the nurse, who had made a few steps in her directions and was now looking at her questioningly. "Would you like to hold her?"

Jodie froze. For a short moment her body seemed paralysed – she couldn't move and she had the feeling she couldn't even breathe properly – then she shook her head. No. She couldn't take her baby in her arms and feel her skin get colder with every passing second. She did not want to remember her baby as an empty shell.

She wanted to say something, but the only sound that left her mouth was a dry sob. Her child was dead. It would never cry, she would never hold it in her arms, would never feel her breath on her skin. Her baby would never live. Because of her own stupidity. Because she hadn't taken care, had let herself step into a trap.

She felt Shuichi laying a hand on her cheek; wiping away the tears she hadn't even noticed were running across her face. It didn't matter. In this moment nothing mattered to her – nothing but her small, dead daughter.

* * *

Concerned, Shuichi Akai looked down on his sleeping partner. Despite the still clearly visible traces of tears on her cheeks, Jodie looked peaceful and completely relaxed, but Shuichi knew it was only the effect of the sleeping and calming pills they had given her. She had been completely distraught as they had taken their child away, had shouted at the nurses and the doctor and had finally collapsed in tears. Shuichi swallowed hard as his glance wandered across Jodie's body and landed on her stomach. Almost the whole of her left side was covered by a white dressing. Shuichi wasn't too worried about the shotgun wound – the doctor had assured him it really had only been a graze and that no inner organs had been injured. Jodie would be in a lot of pain over the next couple of days and there would probably be a scar, but that wasn't that bad. Nothing was as cruel as the loss of a child. The doctor who had treated Jodie had explained to him that the child had probably died due to the shortage caused by the shock or an undiscovered cardiac defect – the exact reason would only be known after the post-mortem. Shuichi swallowed again and clenched both his fists. _Damn!_ Their baby hadn't even been six months old. He felt an incredible fury rise inside him – at Vermouth and his lackey who shot a pregnant woman and got away; at the doctors, who hadn't managed to save his baby; at Jodie, who had put herself at risk despite knowing about the pregnancy. And at himself because he had simply accepted the way Jodie had changed these last few weeks without asking even once what was going on. He should have noticed! She had appeared utterly fatigued to work sometimes, had developed a sudden dislike of coffee and had had inexplicable mood changes lately. She had also thrown up once or twice, but he had explained it away with the flu. But he had paid none of these signs any particular attention, had been too fixated on his search for Shiho. Shuichi sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He was a bloody idiot.

A quiet rattle next to him made him look up. Jodie was stirring, slowly opening her eyes. Her glance darted through the room during several seconds until she noticed him and focussed on him with her blue eyes. "S-Shuu? Wh-Where am I...?" she mumbled. Shuichi smiled and tried to relax. He wouldn't help her if he was so angry he wanted to punch something – preferably that damn sniper...

"You're at the hospital, Jodie," he explained and hoped that she was still too confused to notice how thin his voice sounded.

Confused the agent frowned. "The hospital? But wh-?" She stopped abruptly and Shuichi saw the realisation enter her look. Her eyes widened and her fingers dug into the cover. He wanted to reach for her hand, take her in his arms, do something, anything. But he forced himself to stay still, his hands buried in his pockets so that she wouldn't see them trembling. So that she wouldn't notice he was about to fall apart.

* * *

For a few seconds it was utterly quiet in the beautifully furnished hospital room, only the chirping of the birds outside could be heard. Jodie had turned her head to the window and stared outside without actually looking at anything. She didn't care what was happening outside – not when here inside her world had just shattered into a thousand pieces. Her child had left this earth before it had even entered it. Only because of Vermouth and her own stupidity.

She could feel Shuichi's eyes on her back and heard him sigh. She heard his steps as he came closer and a moment later his strong hand was on her shoulder, offering her his support. Jodie closed her eyes and bit her lower lip to suppress a sob. She only wanted him to take her in his arms, to hold her tight. And she wanted to forget. To turn back time. And yet she couldn't do any of that. She would never forget what happened that day, during these few hours. And she couldn't undo it. No matter how much she might wish she could.

* * *

"Everything will be fine, Jodie. We'll make it. _You'll_ make it," Shuichi murmured reassuringly. He had sat down on the side of the bed and was now pulling her carefully into his arms, mindful of not causing her further pain. The agent hesitated for a moment, then he pushed his partner gently a few centimetres away to kiss her softly on the forehead. It would take time – perhaps only a few months, perhaps even years – but they would make it through. They would learn to live with it – even if it was hard. And he would help her.


End file.
